


equal measure

by glueskin



Category: Witch's Heart (Video Game)
Genre: 'What kind?' Yes, Bathing/Washing, Longing, M/M, Panic Attacks, Tension, Trans Male Character, its all about the yearning.jpg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glueskin/pseuds/glueskin
Summary: sirius heads to the baths late in the night and finds he isn't alone. the days (and the years) catch up to him.set during an unspecified route/loop.
Relationships: Background Claire Elford/Noel Levine & Claire Elford/Sirius Gibson, Noel Levine/Sirius Gibson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	equal measure

**Author's Note:**

> me: kind of wish id written a sexy noel/sirius or noel/claire bathing fic instead of wilashe 2 years ago  
> mars: so like. do it now  
> me:  
> mars:  
> me: youre so fucking right you know that?
> 
> shoutout to mars and em for putting up with me as i write this and also to all my witchs heart friends you are the only people who understand
> 
> also sorry this isnt actually sexy at all since sirius and noel are both like this... claire please give noel some of your top energy since sirius is useless and cant do anything ever
> 
> anyway its 4am. goodnight witchs heart fandom ill be back

When Sirius awakes with wet eyes, body damp with sweat and struggling to breathe, the first thing he thinks is _ah, not again_.  
  
It’s been a while since he’s been this bad, but seeing Claire and Noel again had brought the restless nightmares bubbling to the surface.  
  
 _If only they hadn’t come here_ , he thinks, knowing they aren’t actually to blame. He doesn’t think about the relief that had accompanied his shock and fury at the sight of Claire, looking at him as though he were a stranger.  
  
At least Noel remembers.  
  
Sirius puts those thoughts and the accompanying twisting emotions they give him out of his mind. He spends the next few minutes catching his breath, wiping the tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand and grimacing over the way his clothes stick uncomfortably to his body.  
  
He can’t fall back asleep like this. Even if Sirius changes his clothes his skin will feel gross, leaving him restless, and so with a heavy sigh he drags himself out of bed when he’s sure his tears have stopped. Just in case anyone else is awake and wandering at this ungodly hour he makes sure his face isn’t too blotchy in the bathroom mirror, splashing some cold water on his face while he’s at it.  
  
It hardly helps.  
  
Folding a fresh pair of sleepwear over his arm and stepping into his slippers, Sirius leaves his room behind. He double-checks that he locked it on his way and when satisfied he makes his way up to the second floor.  
  
Despite the hour there are surprisingly—and relievingly—few monsters wandering around. He only has to smack a single one with a talisman on his way up; it skitters away from him and melts into a wall, thank god.  
  
He expects the bath to be empty at this time of night. Why wouldn’t he? So of course he lets himself in, closing the door behind him and locking it with a sigh.  
  
Leaving his slippers by the door, Sirius steps further into the room; because of the walls dividing the area, only then does he see he’s not alone.  
  
A horrifically embarrassing squeaky noise catches in his throat. Noel is there—and he hadn’t said a word when Sirius came in because he’s...asleep. He’s sitting on the stool in front of the showerhead closest to the wall, his side pressed into the wood, his eyes closed.  
  
He’s also very naked. Only a thin towel on his lap covers him and Sirius isn’t sure where to look—the walls, the tiled floor, anywhere but at Noel directly.  
  
He should go. He really should. He should turn right around and leave—it’s his first instinct and he’s turning around to do just that when the fact Noel is _asleep_ in the _baths_ hits him. The door had been unlocked; anyone could have come in.  
  
 _But it was me_ , Sirius tells himself, not letting himself freak out. Noel has been careful with his bedroom door these few days; he doesn’t seem so careless as to leave the bath door unlocked in a situation like this, so perhaps he’s unwell? He has been looking rather pale. Sirius had thought so at dinner as well.  
  
Mind made up, Sirius turns back around and tries not to look directly at Noel as he gets closer. He looks at the wall past him instead.  
  
“N-Noel? Noel, you fool, are you really asleep?” He asks, keeping his voice quiet but still loud enough to be heard clearly. He doesn’t want to shake the other man awake—touching his bare skin in a situation like this…  
  
Luckily for him, Noel stirs; he pushes himself off the wall, sitting properly in his stool and blinking up at Sirius, his face half-obscured by his damp hair.  
  
“Sirius,” he says with sleepy surprise. “What are you—oh.”  
  
Noel looks at Sirius, who is looking very deliberately at the wall and not thinking about how nice Noel looks with his hair darkened by the water. Then he looks down at himself and makes a strangled sound, folding in on himself.  
  
“I, I am very sorry for intruding,” Sirius says before Noel can say anything. “The door was unlocked and I—well. You were asleep. I thought I should wake you instead of leaving, since...well. It wouldn’t be very good if you slipped and cracked your head or something, would it?”  
  
“You were worried?” Noel asks, but it sounds more like a statement. “I mean, of course you were. Um. Thank you, Sirius. I suppose everything happening is catching up to me…”  
  
Sirius clears his throat.  
  
“That’s all very understandable, but don’t—don’t be so careless again. Leaving the door unlocked when you’re...well, it’s no good.”  
  
He hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels.  
  
“At any rate, I will...excuse myself now. Yes. Goodni—”  
  
Sirius is halfway through turning around when Noel interrupts.  
  
“Wait, Sirius. You were going to take a bath, weren’t you?” He asks. Sirius remains still.  
  
“Um. I mean, yes. Well. I was going to...clean up a bit. Not a full bath,” Sirius answers. He doesn’t explain why and he hopes Noel doesn’t ask.  
  
“You can go ahead, if you want,” is what Noel says instead. Sirius turns to him out of sheer surprise; Noel isn’t folded in half anymore, though his elbows are on his knees and he’s somewhat slouched. He’s smiling.  
  
“What,” Sirius says, but it comes out more like ‘whehaheat?’  
  
“We’re both adults,” Noel says. “It’s just bathing. I was just rinsing off before bed myself, but...ah, you saw.”  
  
“You’re...okay with that?” Sirius asks slowly. Noel is still smiling.  
  
“Sure. You already know about…” he trails off, smile lessening slightly but still present. “It’s not a big deal. But if you prefer being alone, I understand. I can go—”  
  
“No, no,” Sirius says, feeling vexed. “I said I would go, didn’t I? Goodness, you’re impossible.” But if he tries to leave, so will Noel, and neither of them will leave clean and refreshed. Ugh.  
  
He tells himself that’s why he puts his clean, folded clothes on the edge of the empty bath before he starts stripping.  
  
It’s just Noel, after all. If it were Adler or Bradley he would never, but—well, they had seen each other before, even if they had been children then, being pulled around by Claire and being stuffed into the dresses found in the back of Lady Dorothy’s closets.  
  
 _This is much different than back then_ , his mind says. Maybe so. He still ties a towel around his waist and sits on the stool beside Noel’s with determination.  
  
Only when he’s there does he realize he didn’t need to sit _beside_ Noel. There are four stools and showerheads, after all.  
  
Well. Too late. If he moves now it would just be awkward.  
  
Noel stifles a giggle behind his hand. Sirius glowers at him, hand partly outstretched towards the faucet; even like this he has to look _up_ at Noel.  
  
“What?” He demands, and Noel giggles harder, his smile widening into a grin and his face somewhat red.  
  
“Sorry, sorry—you just look so...intense,” Noel explains. “Do you want me to get your back for you?”  
  
Sirius stares at him. Noel stares back, smiling, and Sirius feels as if he might be about to die.  
  
“Oh, very well. Do what you will,” Sirius huffs, flustered as he turns the faucet. The rush of water falling over him—he was so distracted he forgot to move his stool, damn it—cold and making him shiver violently.  
  
Noel laughs at him. The sound is just barely audible over the water hitting his body and the tile but it’s enough to warm him even before the water temperature rises.  
  
Noel turns his water on as well. The two of them are quiet as they scrub themselves clean with soap—Sirius is both grateful for and frustrated by the silence. He has so much he wants to say and no idea how to say it; he wants to look at Noel and yet doesn’t allow himself, staring determinedly forward.  
  
“Sirius?” Noel asks after a few minutes as Sirius is watching the soapy bubbles rinse off his pale legs and into the drain.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“If you’re done, shall I go ahead?”  
  
Go ahead? Go ahead with—ah, right. His back.  
  
“I suppose,” Sirius sighs, doing his best to sound put upon as he shifts on his stool so his back faces Noel.  
  
He tries not to shiver when Noel drags the bar of soap down his back. He probably fails, from the way Noel pauses, but when Sirius says nothing Noel continues; when was the last time anyone had done such a thing for him?  
  
He knows when, of course. When he had been a child—even younger than he had been when Dorothy took him in, when his parents still lived.  
  
Sirius curls in on himself when Noel’s knuckles brush against his spine, shuddering and trying to tell himself he’s simply touch starved. He knows this isn’t true. Stupid, childish feelings that had been long buried have been clawing their way to the surface of his heart since Bradley had led Claire and Noel into his dining room.  
  
Childish longing. Childish crushes. He’s spent days telling himself that’s all it is and all it ever will be, even though he’s found himself noting the differences time has wrought in his friends and being fond of those, too.  
  
“Sirius? Are you—are you okay? Are you sick?” Noel asks behind him. Sirius isn’t sure when he had stopped washing his back; now his palm is pressed flat against Sirius’ spine and he sucks in a heavy, shaking breath.  
  
 _I’m fine_ , he tries to say, but what comes out is, “Why didn’t you ever come back?”  
  
God. He sounds pathetic to his own ears, barely audible over the water, voice shaking. He bows his head between his knees, shivering, feeling ashamed and guilty for no real reason. Noel’s hand feels like an iron brand against his skin as his fingers curl slightly in surprise.  
  
“Forget it,” Sirius gasps out, voice closer to his normal volume. “Just forget it, I know there was no reason for you to be here with, without Claire or Lady Dorothy, so—”  
  
“Sirius,” Noel says, sounding horrified and—and something else. “Sirius, no, that’s not—please, will you look at me?”  
  
Sirius shakes his head. He stays folded in on himself, head between his knees, eyes squeezed shut. He can’t breathe right. He thought he’d gotten over this sort of thing.  
  
“Okay. Okay, that’s fine. Um. Is touching you like this fine?”  
  
Sirius shakes his head and regrets it as soon as Noel draws his hand away.  
  
“Alright. I’m sorry I did that, then,” Noel says, and the sound of his stool dragging closer to Sirius’ is too loud. “I’m, I’m really sorry I never came back. I can’t...I can’t explain why. Or, I don’t know if I should, but it wasn’t because of that. I mean. Because Claire wasn’t here. Or Miss Dorothy.”  
  
 _Then why_ , he wants to ask, but his throat is tight and he isn’t even sure he wants to hear the answer.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Noel says again, sounding frustrated. “But I came back for...well, Claire was part of it. You remember what I told you, right? I needed to help her. But it’s never just been Claire. It’s always been the both of you.”  
  
Sirius makes an awkward, choked wheeze when he tries to speak.  
  
“Sh—I mean, ah, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, maybe. Um. Breathe nice and deep, okay? Into your stomach, like so…”  
  
Noel breathes noisily in example beside him. Sirius kicks his ankle, mortified even as he follows Noel’s instructions. Noel’s mumbled _sorry, sorry_ goes unacknowledged as Sirius gradually calms down.  
  
The water is coming down lukewarm. Sirius blindly reaches for the faucet, turning it off, and only Noel’s abandoned showerhead is left making noise. Each ragged gasp from Sirius’ throat is clearly audible and he wishes he could curl up and die.  
  
“I’m…” Sirius clears his throat when he feels his voice breaking, slowly forcing himself to sit up. “I’m sorry you saw me like this.”  
  
“No, it’s fine,” Noel hastens to say, lifting a hand as if to touch him before drawing it back. “I...I should have been clearer when I came here. I know everything has been confusing. I didn’t realize you thought…” Noel trails off, struggling.  
  
“What you said before,” Sirius says. He doesn’t quite look at Noel still, staring more at the tiled floor and his own wet feet instead. The polish on his toenails have begun to chip. He should fix that later. “You...needn’t be so kind to me. I know you and Claire were—are—well. I know.”  
  
It’s hard not to know. The way Noel had looked at her back then, when they had both called him by a different name, was so very telling. Claire had looked at Noel the same way. So fierce, so loving. As if she would do anything for him and as if Noel would do anything for her in return.  
  
Even now they look at each other like that. Claire looks at Noel with confusion and vague familiarity; yet every time evening falls and Noel emerges from his room she looks like the sun has risen instead. Every time Noel sees her his face takes on a look of miserable longing. It makes him sick and he hates himself for it.  
  
“Sirius…” Noel almost sounds _amused_ , though Sirius can’t fathom why. He never took him to be cruel about such things. “Look at me? Please.”  
  
 _Absolutely not_ , Sirius wants to say, but the pleading tone makes him give in. He looks up, careful to look at Noel’s face and nowhere else. Even now, hair wetly plastered to his face, his right eye is still obscured. For some stupid reason he’s smiling.  
  
“Can I…” Noel lifts his hand and when Sirius gives a jerky nod, Noel touches his bare shoulder, squeezing gently.  
  
“Sirius. It’s true that I, well. I care deeply for Claire. She was...she was the first person in a long time to make me feel like...myself again. Like I could…” he exhales, looking slightly put upon. “I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it here and now. But it was never just her. It was you as well. Both of you, always.”  
  
Sirius stares at him. Noel’s smile is a shaky thing, his face darkening from pink to red, the hand on Sirius’ shoulder scalding.  
  
“That is to say...whatever you’re thinking I feel for Claire, I, ah. I feel for you in equal measure.”  
  
“Huh,” Sirius says, except it sounds more like _hueahheahg_. Noel’s expression wobbles as he slowly retracts his hand.  
  
“I, um. I understand if you aren’t fond of the idea. I thought—” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “No, I don’t know. Perhaps I’m simply exhausted. You can forget it if—”  
  
“I will _not_ ,” Sirius manages to get out, his voice strangled. “You, you can’t ask to forget something like—you can’t. I...I was always so stupidly jealous of you both. It made me crazy. It was bad enough I behaved so pettily towards Claire over Lady Dorothy, but…”  
  
His shoulders slump and his face feels as red as Noel’s looks.  
  
“What I mean to say is, I never...disliked you. Either of you. As much as I wished I did back then—”  
  
Noel interrupts him by reaching between them and taking his hand. Sirius stares down dumbly, then lifts his head to Noel’s face again.  
  
“Sirius,” he says lowly, looking kind of like he had that first night they were locked in and he had said _If it bothers you so much, I could lean closer._ Sirius had felt his skin crawl then and he feels it do so now, face darkening in color. “I know. Claire knew, too. It’s okay.”  
  
“Right,” Sirius croaks. Noel is incredibly close. When had he gotten that close?  
  
When Noel speaks next, Sirius is so sure he’s going to say something like _Okay, I’m going to kiss you now_ or something to that effect.  
  
“We should dry off. You might get sick,” is what Noel says instead. He sounds so earnest. Sirius wants to scream.  
  
“Ah. Yes, of course. We...we should.” He hopes he doesn’t sound as off as he feels. Noel looks at him with concern regardless, helping him stand; Sirius’ legs feel somewhat wobbly and not quite there. Noel keeps hold of his hand even when he’s turning the faucet for his showerhead off; he holds on even as they both walk towards the rack of towels.  
  
“Let me,” Noel says when Sirius lets go of him to grab for a towel, only to spend several seconds staring at it as if he has no idea what it is. Sirius, dazed, lets Noel take it from him and drape it over his hair.  
  
Oh. Oh no.  
  
With Noel standing in front of him, mumbling under his breath as he dries Sirius’ hair for him, Noel’s chest is directly in his line of sight. Sirius shuts down all possible avenues of thought. He empties his head entirely and keeps his eyes squeezed shut because if he stares at and subsequently thinks about Noel’s breasts, he will die.  
  
“Okay, that should be fi—Sirius? Are you alright?” Noel asks, dragging the towel off his head and seeing him standing there with his eyes squeezed shut.  
  
“Fine,” Sirius snaps, flustered, opening his eyes and grabbing for the towel. “I’m just fine. I mean, thank you.”  
  
Noel looks at him with fond bemusement. Sirius ignores him in favor of making sure the rest of his body is dry; his hair is still slightly damp, but not enough to be a bother. He looks away while Noel dries himself off, aware he should not stare—though Noel seems to have little shame for his naked body right now, Sirius would feel guilty catching a glimpse of whatever he must be hiding beneath the curtain of his hair.  
  
Instead he wanders towards the bath on wobbly legs, dressing himself in the fresh nightclothes he had brought with him. The shorts and sleeping gown he’d unthinkingly pulled out of his drawers are…  
  
Well. They’re comfortable. Noel is hardly going to say anything, so he puts them on as he usually would, hoping Bradley and Adler are asleep by now—perhaps wishful thinking, since he’s woken up at this hour before and seen Adler frowning into glasses of water in the kitchen. He feels kind of pathetic for feeling embarrassed when he himself had told Noel how much he hates people thinking in such restricted ways about gender and presentation, but, ah. He’s lived alone for so _long_.  
  
Of course, when he turns to see Noel buttoning up his own loose shirt, whatever bra or binding he wears during the day completely absent and making Sirius’ next breath come in like a wheeze, all Noel does is smile wide and tell him, “You look lovely, Sirius! Of course your fine taste extends to pyjamas too, hah.”  
  
“Well, obviously,” he snaps, face reddening impossibly further. “Now, shall we go?”  
  
Noel doesn’t seem to have anything else to put on; no coat over his shirt, no pants aside from the loose looking shorts he wears. His legs are disgustingly long. Sirius doesn’t look at them.  
  
“Of course. Can I—is it fine if I walk down with you? You seem alright, but you were, um...you worried me.”  
  
Sirius has always, always been unable to deny him. That is one thing that hasn’t changed.  
  
“I’m not that helpless,” he grumbles. “But very well, if it puts you at ease.”  
  
Noel’s smile is so warm Sirius can practically feel it heat the air.  
  
They leave together, Sirius’ laundry tucked under his arm. Nobody else is wandering the halls; the monsters seem to shrink away from them, sinking into walls and shadows as though afraid, which Sirius is too relieved about to find confusing.  
  
“Well,” Sirius says when they arrive outside of his room. He clears his throat quietly, his voice feeling too loud in the halls despite the abundance of noise—monsters dragging their viscous bodies across the walls and floors, strange winds rattling the building—that would have been absent at this hour a few days ago. “I suppose this is goodnight.”  
  
“Yes, I suppose,” Noel agrees. He doesn’t quite fidget but he seems like he wants to say something else.  
  
“Out with it, then,” Sirius snaps, more irritable than intended. He sucks in a restless breath. “If you have something to say—”  
  
“I meant it, earlier,” Noel blurts, then colors. “I mean...I simply don’t want you to go to sleep thinking perhaps I was just pacifying you. You and Claire both are...equally important, for similar and different reasons. I do care for you. I,” he wrings his hands together, face red and eyes downcast.  
  
“I want to...tell you everything. I wish I could now. But it...it isn’t the right time. I’m sorry.”  
  
“You apologize too much,” Sirius bites out, Noel’s nerves rubbing off on him. “You always have. You—You don’t owe me any explanations if you aren’t ready to give them. I... _care_ about you as well. Both you and that damnable woman, so. I’ll keep helping. Okay?”  
  
Noel looks relieved. Relieved and happy, his smile thin and trembling, visible eye damp. Sirius hopes to god the man doesn’t cry; Sirius never knows what to do when people cry. He can’t even console _himself_ when he cries.  
  
“Thank you,” Noel says, and then he—  
  
He hugs him. Sirius goes stiff, stunned by the way Noel leans down and wraps his arms around him. Noel begins to let go as soon as he feels Sirius freeze but he reaches up his free hand to grab his shirtfront, feeling his own eyes go embarrassingly warm when Noel tightens his grip.  
  
“Thank you,” Noel says again, quieter, softer; he says it with his face tucked into Sirius’ neck, mouth moving against his throat, and Sirius trembles with weak knees as he grips Noel’s shirt tighter, turning his face into his soft hair.  
  
“I should be thanking you, fool,” he mumbles without any heat. He can feel Noel’s smile on his neck; after a few more moments, Noel lets go, straightening his posture and still smiling down at him.  
  
“Goodnight, Sirius,” Noel says warmly, still holding onto his shoulders. It takes effort for Sirius to release the other man’s shirt.  
  
“Goodnight, Noel,” he says back, tongue heavy in his mouth. He wishes he was a braver man; if he were, he would not let Noel walk away from him now. If he were, he would kiss him. If he were, he would have sought him out years ago.  
  
But Sirius is not a brave man, and so when Noel releases him and leaves him with one last smile, Sirius lets himself back into his room with shaky hands. He locks the door behind him. He drops his laundry in a basket and stumbles to sit at the edge of his bed, lifting a hand to his neck, touching his fingers to where Noel had mouthed his gratitude.  
  
Despite how it should burn, his skin feels normal to the touch.  
  
When he finally slips beneath his bedding, sleep comes easier than it has in a long time—and he dreams not of the despairing past, but of a hopeful future.

**Author's Note:**

> sirius dies the next day and it sucks hardcore. RIP 
> 
> fun fact i love coffee and my username is glueskin


End file.
